Queen and Consort
by NovaFoster
Summary: So I spent the night writing this when I should have been sleeping—I don't know what got into me. I just felt like writing some Esther-Ion smut.


It was probably the most appropriate time for words, and yet they were both at a loss. They hadn't said a thing to each other since "I do," and that was hours ago. They had gone through the reception answering questions when asked and making appropriate responses when spoken to, but they had both mostly been on autopilot the entire time.

Now here they were. Bedroom. First night as man and wife. They were already in the bed, they were already mostly undressed, she was on her back with her arms spread out behind her head, his hands were on either side of her shoulders and his knees were between hers, and they were just staring at each other, unable to do anything but remember the last time they were in a similar position.

It wasn't a pleasant memory for either of them—his momentary loss of control, the sudden thirst caused by heavy blood loss, had spurred him to throw her down then and there, in that prison cell. He would have killed her if his affection for her hadn't been there to act as a shred of sanity to which he could cling.

Still, it wasn't a pleasant memory. They could see it playing out in each other's eyes—it and the events that led up to it and the events that led to their current position. Those hadn't been pleasant either. If they hand been told when they first met that they would be married a few years later, they both would have thought the messenger to be insane. They felt a mutual wry humor, thinking about how they had once despised each other's races.

Now, here they were. Man and wife—rather, queen and consort.

Esther gulped nervously, remembering that she was a queen now. For that, she had had to give up her position in the church. She was no longer a nun and thus no longer bound to her vow of celibacy. She wasn't doing anything wrong. Not a thing. There was nothing wrong about a woman giving herself to her husband.

Well, not usually…

Proposals for marriage had come one after the other even before Esther was crowned and she had rejected every one of them without even reading the proposal. As far as she had been concerned, Mary was the only help she needed when it came to ruling a country. It wasn't until Caterina and the pope came to call that she even considered a proposal—and an outrageous one at that. How Caterina had thought up the idea of a terran queen marrying a methuselah earl was beyond her—but then, terran-methuselah relations had always been high on Caterina's to-do list.

What better way to improve relations than marriage?

What was more amazing was that Seth had agreed to it. She had laws about her methuselah children having romantic relationships with terrans—it wasn't worth the heartache. What's more, it was a political nightmare. Everyone involved was amazed there had been no terrorist attacks throughout the ceremony or the reception, let alone protestors at the gate. Most of the citizens were reportedly very against their queen taking a vampire for a husband, but no one was trying to initiate a revolt.

Thinking about it now, Esther took it as a sign that they had made a good choice and that real peace between terrans and methuselah was not only possible, but in reach.

What Esther still couldn't really believe, even now, was that Ion had agreed to this. He had been in just as much disbelief as Esther at first, but once he had processed the word "marriage," he had all but jumped on it. Was he having second thoughts now—_now_, after they had already said their vows?

It wasn't just by human ceremony, either. They had sworn fidelity to each other in front of the Empress—even if Ion did regret his hasty compliance, he couldn't back out of it now.

Though, that didn't mean he _had_ to touch her, either. It wasn't like there was any practical reason. Past terran-methuselah relations could be counted on one hand, but none of them had ever resulted in children. Tests were being run now by both the Vatican and the Empire, but it was very likely that Esther and Ion couldn't even have children together—and even if they could, what kind of child would that be? Would it try to drink its mother's milk or its mother's blood? Would it be able to go out in the sunlight or would it burn? How long would it live for?

Ion swallowed dryly, thinking of the idea—the idea of his wife baring him a child of unknown conditions. It made him remember that she, beautiful and fragile and already looking a bit older than him, would die long before he would. He would likely outlive any child they had, too. He had been in heaven since plans for their marriage had been finalized, but now—with her under him, of all times—he was remembering that he had maybe sixty or seventy years with her, if that, and then she would be gone.

They refocused their eyes on each other's, as if to confirm that the other knew that, despite their vows, this wasn't _forever_. This was until the end of Esther's much shorter life.

Esther smiled, then, in a reassuring way. Perhaps Ion would be a bit lonely after she was gone, but she reminded herself that this was a political marriage—they were friends. It wasn't like Ion was in love with her. The thought of Ion being in love with her was laughable. Her smile was meant to reassure him that this was all okay and that he would be okay after she was gone. Whether he wanted to do this or didn't want to do this, either was okay with her.

It was a beautiful smile, and Ion hated it—she gave him that smile that one other time he had had her under him, and she had offered her blood to him then. She had offered her life for his, offered it while smiling and telling him he could have it all and that it wasn't his fault, so there was no need for him to cry.

Esther's blood was not something he wanted. Ever. What he wanted even less was to hurt her, and he knew he would do that—his grandmother had had plenty of fun telling him in revolting detail how much it hurt a woman to lose her virginity and how his grandfather had gone about making it easier for her.

And now here he was, on his hands and knees with his wife of six hours lying under him, ready and waiting.

Was she waiting? Did she really even want this? If he asked her, would she admit that she didn't? Was that smile supposed to let him know that she did?

Ion smiled as well, though it was a grimace in his mind at his reflection in her eyes. He wasn't sure if it was more cowardly or more selfish that he wouldn't offer her the option of ending things here. If she asked him to stop, he would, but he wouldn't offer it.

With that thought it mind, Ion laced his fingers through the splayed locks of Esther's silken hair and brought the strands up to his lips before sinking down to brush them against hers. They were affectionate moves that surprised Esther—Ion had never done such things before—but she didn't hesitate to return the kisses as Ion settled most of his weight on her.

He moved slowly for fear of scaring her and prompting resistance. One sign of even the slightest reluctance, and he would kiss her forehead and get off of her. He made that silent promise to her as he trailed his hands down her thigh until he found the hem of her nighty and then trailed back up them under the fabric. His hands continued up, smooth as they slid over her hips and waist and ribs, pushing the nighty out of the way, and Esther shifted her weight accordingly to make it easier.

Ion thought he saw a moment of reluctance when his hands brushed against her breasts, but he quickly evaluated that the sharp intake of breath and the blush on her cheeks were simply products of virginal modesty. She was still willing, albeit nervous.

The blush only got darker when the nighty was fully removed and discarded. Esther knew Ion could see her as well as if it was the sun lighting the room instead of the single candle by the door.

Esther suddenly noticed that the weak, flickering light did strange things to Ion's eyes—made them look a deeper shade of red than usual. Made them glow. They were beautiful—_he_ was beautiful. She was so fixated that she didn't notice him moving his arm until she felt his hand on her neck, caressing it, nudging her jaw to the side as if to expose it more.

She wasn't afraid, though. She kept her own eyes wide open and looking into his as he lowered his face to hers once more, but it was her cheek he kissed this time. She felt the kisses trail down her jaw and her neck, face getting hotter and hotter until he reached her breasts.

Esther had also been given a rundown of what to expect—and by _Jane_, of all people, when she had managed to get Esther alone. She had become too flustered too quickly to remember most of what was said, so she was surprised at the jolt of pleasure that shot through her when Ion clamped his mouth over her nipple and gave it a tentative nibble.

He froze in the instant he felt her shudder and heard her gasp, but her back arched in the next instant and her hands threaded through his hair encouragingly. He slipped one of his arms under her and held her tightly, gripping what flesh he could without breaking her.

Oddly enough, as he continued, Ion was surprised at how stimulating this was to him, too. Or maybe it was the noises coming from the back of Esther's throat. Whatever the specific cause, he could feel the specific effect it was having on specific parts of his body. He shifted so he could raise his hips, thus giving his other hand access to Esther's.

Revolting as he had found his grandmother's reminisces, he had paid attention. He slid his fingertips all over down there until he found where he was supposed to place himself inside her. He didn't mean for them to, but a couple of his fingers slipped inside—odd, he thought, but Esther gasped again, just like when he started on her breasts and her thighs tensed and pressed against him, which was supposed to be a good sign, so he didn't take them out. Rather, he felt around—it was all slick and most of it was smooth except for one spot that was almost rough.

Curious about that spot, Ion pushed himself up and away so he could push his fingers deeper to feel it better, and he was surprised by the mewling his curiosity produced. He watched Esther's head roll back, the expression on her face similar to pain, but he found that to be oddly stimulating, as well. In fact, he now noticed how overheated he was with his pants still on and managed to remove them without having to take his fingers out of Esther.

As he was moving around, he had inadvertently spread the thickening wetness from inside Esther to the area around the opening—some primal instinct told him that was a wise thing to do. Spread the wetness round. It seemed to Ion that the more he rubbed the rough spot, the more moisture Esther produced and the more she made those pleasing noises. Ion was transfixed by these curious and stimulating reactions—so much so that he didn't stop until he felt the slick flesh around his fingers convulse and heard a new noise escape Esther's lips, one like a strangled scream.

At that noise, Ion froze again. Had he hurt her? What had he done?

Ion remained motionless, just watching Esther's face as she caught her breath—when had she started panting like that and why was it raising his temperature even higher?—and waited for her to tell him what had just happened.

She didn't speak, though. She was still panting, her heart beating erratically when she looked at him again, but this time in a way that stopped his breath entirely for a good few seconds.

There were things he was familiar with—things he had seen in her eyes plenty of times when looking at him. Curiosity, confusion, warmth, but there was something new in them now—desire. Heated, cloudy, inhibited desire.

Ion pulled his fingers out almost sharply in his haste to lean down to kiss her—not in the soft, affectionate way he had before, but with heavy, frantic need. It only lasted for a couple second, though—enough time for Ion to slide one arm under Esther's shoulders to brace her against his chest and for his other hand to push one of her legs out of the way so he could shove himself inside her, forgetting that he had planned to do that slowly.

Esther didn't scream—not out loud, at least. Her eyes were wide as she buried her face in the slope of Ion's neck and shoulder and her nails dug into his back, but she didn't make a sound.

Ion was still, and he remained still for more than a few seconds. The euphoric feeling of just being inside her like that hit him like an electric shock. He didn't remember his plans to be gentle until he shifted back, ready to go at her as hard and fast as he really wanted to, but that movement exposed something, and he could smell it in the air—blood.

His breath caught in his throat, suddenly very anxious as he pushed himself up enough to look at Esther's face again. She had managed to rein in her expression enough that she looked only a bit uncomfortable.

Ion wasn't entirely convinced—he knew Esther too well to be—so he was once again slow moving as he pulled out a bit and then pushed back in. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, but she wasn't protesting or making any pained noises—most importantly, she wasn't asking him to stop.

Still, Ion moved slowly for a couple more minutes. It was almost painful for _him_, doing that, so he was very relieved when he quickened his pace slightly and only heard more Esther's pleasant mewling. He decided that was his new favorite thing about her—that noise she was making right now, and it only spurred him to go faster.

Ion shoved himself up, searching with a foggy part of his mind for something to hold onto for better leverage, and Esther presented that when she reached her arms back to search for a pillow to grip. Ion grabbed hold of her forearms and moved even faster, eliciting louder moans and cries from Esther.

It was a strange thing—blood rushing, heart pounding, mind clouded, instincts heightened, almost like in the middle of battle.

Was this like battle? Ion didn't think so. Esther certainly wasn't an opponent and she certainly wasn't fighting him. She was wrapping her legs around him, in fact. She had opened her eyes to look at him again and that desire was still in them. She registered the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at her, saw the bared fangs his lips had pulled back over in his effort to breath in more air—he looked poised and ready to eat her alive, and she wasn't afraid. She wanted him and he had her and that thought was what sent Ion over the edge. He shuddered to a halt as an even stronger euphoria hit him, more like a tidal wave than a mere shock.

And so they were back to where they had been before. She was on her lying on her back and looking up at him. He was on his hands and knees and looking down at her.

Esther's legs suddenly felt very shaky and numb. She couldn't seem to muster the strength to stop them from slipping down and flopping on either side of Ion's, causing him to slip out of her in the process, and she winced at the jolt of dull soreness it produced.

Ion remained still for a few more seconds before slowly and stiffly moving to lie down next to her, suddenly feeling exhausted himself, but pulled her in and held her close and firm until he could breathe normally again. He planned to inform her that today had been the best day of his life, but he found that his spent wife had already drifted off to sleep.

He chuckled quietly to himself, deciding he could tell her tomorrow, and murmured, "I love you," with his lips pressed against her forehead before drifting off as well.

* * *

A/N: I'm pretty sure this isn't a canon paring—I'd be highly surprised if they ended up together in the manga—but I like them together anyway. For anyone reading this, I recommend you go read chapters 30 and 31 of the manga.


End file.
